stared at the guards, his face twisted with anger and pain.
“Let’s go!” she hissed, tugging his arm. “We’ll avenge them all, but not today.”
He shook his head, braids rattling. After a long moment he moved, following her into the trees. She pretended she didn’t see his tears.
He came to her in the dark that night, silent and trembling, his cheeks slick with salt. No icy touch of possession this time, only a tangle of pain and grief and need, of guilt and desire. She didn’t push him away.
Chapter 15
After Adam had doctored her wounds, Isyllt cleaned up as best she could while Vienh went out for food. The room still stank like a surgery in spite of the cracked-open window. She felt better having an emergency exit, though she doubted she’d survive the two-story drop in her present condition.
“How much money do we have left?” she asked, trying to undo her shirt buttons one-handed and mourning all the clean clothes she’d abandoned in the Khas. She could sell the silver chains in her kit if she had to, but she carried nothing else of value.
“Enough for a few days here or a cheap passage home. Sleeping-on-deck cheap. I hope you don’t need anyone bribed.”
“At this point it’d be easier to kill people.” Her fingers slipped off a button for the third time and she swore.
Adam’s smile was a ghost in the deepening gloom. “It usually is.”
“They’ll have someone watching the embassy by tomorrow. At least the supply ship is already on its way.” She cursed foreign assignments and buttons silently. “I have to get my ring back.”
“Are you sure that’s smart?”
“Losing it in the first place was stupid enough. I’m not leaving without it.” She fumbled another button and snarled.
“Need help?” Adam asked, nearly smiling.
Pride fought pragmatism and lost soundly. “Yes, damn it.”
She watched his nimble calloused fingers and swallowed a laugh. He caught her expression and his lips quirked as he undid the last button and helped her slip the remnants of the sleeve off her left arm. Her linen undershirt was stiff with dried blood and sweat—it itched, but not so badly that she’d rather be naked.
Adam turned toward the door an instant before someone knocked. He eased the latch up, double-checking before he opened it wide enough for Vienh to slip in. She carried bamboo cartons of food and—saints bless her—a change of clothes. Isyllt’s stomach clenched at the smell of curry.
Dusk bells tolled slow and sonorous as they ate, and Vienh lit the room’s single lamp. Isyllt was halfway through a carton of rice and lentils when Adam tensed again. A heartbeat later someone else knocked. Isyllt swallowed a mouthful and glanced at Vienh—the smuggler shook her head sharply.
“I wasn’t followed, I swear,” she whisper-hissed when Adam glared at her.
He stood, easing a dagger from his boot as he edged toward the door; the quarters were too close for swords. Isyllt thought of her knife safely packed across the city and swore under her breath even as she edged out of the door’s line of sight.
“Please let me in,” a familiar voice asked softly. “I’ll attract more attention standing out here.”
Vienh drew her knife and moved behind the door. Adam glanced at Isyllt. “Only one,” he mouthed. She nodded slowly, and he reached for the latch.
Siddir slipped in—cautiously, when he saw Adam’s blade. The mercenary checked the hall quickly and shut the door. Siddir pulled a scarf away from his tousled curls. Isyllt tensed, waiting for soldiers’ footsteps, for the brush of hot magic, but none came.
Siddir smiled at her expression and bowed, stopping when Adam’s knife drew closer to his throat.
“They’ll charge more if you make a mess in the room, you know,” he said.
Isyllt started to cross her arms, but thought better of it. “How did you find me?”
Siddir cocked an eyebrow. “I am a spy, after all. I wanted to talk to you without the whole Khas looking on.”
She gestured toward the hard wooden chair. “So sit and talk.”
His gaze slid along her bandaged arms. “Did that happen at the execution?”
“Yes. You were there?”
“I was, but I didn’t feel the need to be in the thick of things. Luckily for me.”
“What happened? Is the Khas looking for me?”
“The Khas is a bit preoccupied at the moment. Nineteen people are dead, not counting the Dai Tranh—three councillors, the rest bureaucrats, servants, and soldiers. And it turns out the attack may have only been a distraction.”
Isyllt retrieved her food, nodding for him to continue.